


Watch It

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: tumblr ficlets [72]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Mirrors, top!aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 14:48:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18758608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: "Shadwell relaxed, and wondered why anyone would want to put a mirror on his bedroom ceiling."Crowley and Aziraphale have a few ideas.





	Watch It

**Author's Note:**

> Someone asked if I'd write a top!Aziraphale fic, so I did. I may eventually write a more substantial one, but right now I'm in the middle of finals so this is what I can offer. Also, I kept having thoughts on that line about mirrors in the book. So I figured I'd kill two birds with one stone.

Crowley grasped the headboard and panted desperately, the breaths punched out of him with unexpected force. He stared up at himself, lying flat on his back, his yellow eyes wide as he took in his dishevelled state in the mirror. It hadn’t been mounted on the ceiling last time he’d been in Aziraphale’s bed. Of course, last time, he hadn’t been in a position to look at the ceiling much at all.

He tightened his legs around Aziraphale’s waist and gasped, “ _Fuck,_ angel.”

“Mmm,” Aziraphale hummed in agreement. His hips didn’t stop their rhythmic pumping, his cock splitting Crowley open in the best way. Like the angel it was on the shorter side, but thick, gloriously thick, and it forced Crowley open, forced him to make room to take it all in. Crowley knew he was probably cracking the wooden bedframe under his grip, but he couldn’t help it. Every thrust rubbed Aziraphale right against his prostate like a battering ram of overwhelming pleasure. Crowley’s tongue lolled out of his open mouth, and Aziraphale leaned down to suck on it, the angle driving him a little deeper. Crowley moaned.

“That’s it, my darling,” Aziraphale cooed, entirely too sweetly for someone who was systematically destroying Crowley with his cock. He pressed a row of kisses down Crowley’s neck. “I want you to watch yourself. I want you to see yourself fall apart under my touch, to feel me moving inside you as you watch me do it. You feel so good, my darling, so tight and lovely around me.” His hold on Crowley’s hip tightened a little as his thrusts quickened. A low moan bubbled up from his throat, guttural and deep and so un-angelic that Crowley’s cock pulsed and throbbed at the sound, drooling precum against his stomach. “I want you to see yourself as you come,” Aziraphale breathed. “That beautiful way your face screws up. The way you pant and gasp through it as I milk your body of its pleasure. The way you tense, like being struck by something divine, and then collapse, utterly spent. It’s beautiful to watch, darling. Absolutely stunning. I want you to see it.”

Crowley didn’t have much of a choice. He couldn’t have closed his eyes if he tried. His hands clutched desperately at Aziraphale’s back, scratching red lines down it that stood out starkly against the pale skin. He could see every flex of Aziraphale’s arse as the angel fucked him, could watch Aziraphale’s curls brush against his skin as he buried his face in Crowley’s neck to suck at his pulse point. He could see the angel’s arm moving between them, even if he couldn’t see the way Aziraphale grasped Crowley’s cock until he felt it, a cry of satisfaction tearing free of his throat as Aziraphale began to pump it in time with his thrusts, squeezing with his plump hand just the way Crowley liked.

“You’re close,” Aziraphale murmured, lifting his head to stare at Crowley intently. “I can feel it, can feel the way you swell in my grip, getting harder as you slide closer and closer to ecstasy. Better yet, I can see it.” He cupped Crowley’s cheek and tilted his head up just a little, directing him more towards the mirror. “Can you see it? The way your mouth falls just a little more open? The way your forehead crinkles up, your breathing shallower? You’re close, I know you are. Come for me, my darling.”

“You first,” Crowley managed. He wasn’t sure he could last that long, but he needed it, needed to watch Aziraphale give in first, the angel taking pleasure in his body, ploughing his arse like it belonged to him.

“If you insist,” Aziraphale murmured. His thrusts grew harder, more uneven. His hand stopped stroking, but it didn’t matter; the force of his hips pushed Crowley’s cock into his grip with every thrust. Crowley groaned, tearing his eyes away from the mirror just long enough to watch Aziraphale’s face contort, the angel’s eyes fluttering shut as he chased his orgasm. Crowley dug his heels into the meat of Aziraphale’s arse, encouraging him, and Aziraphale gasped and cried out, his cock pulsing inside Crowley as he spilled. Crowley clenched, determined to draw it out, and Aziraphale surged forward and kissed him, his fist moving with renewed fervour around Crowley’s cock. Crowley grunted, his head falling back against the pillows, and it was with Aziraphale’s softening cock in his arse and the angel’s hand still wanking him off that Crowley came, staring directly into his own eyes as he did so.

He slumped back against the bed, Aziraphale a comfortable and heavy weight against his body as he waited for his ragged breathing to even out. Aziraphale pulled out and miracled them clean, then settled himself on Crowley’s chest.

“That was…” Crowley began. He was still watching himself, watching _them_ , in the mirror. In the post-orgasm haze, they were both practically glowing, their skin flushed with the exertion.

Aziraphale lifted his head. “Did you like it?”

“I did. I know you prefer not to top, angel, but when you do,” Crowley shook his head and grinned. “You’re very good at it. Wasn’t expecting the mirror, though.”

“Oh.”

“It wasn’t bad,” Crowley reassured. He pet Aziraphale’s hair gently, carding through the curls. “Different. Kind of nice.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm.” Crowley finally allowed his eyes to flutter shut. “Maybe next time you can watch me riding you.”

“Or you can watch _me_ riding _you_ ,” Aziraphale offered.

“Or both,” Crowley suggest. “Both is good.”

Aziraphale gave a low hum of agreement. For a being who insisted he wasn’t fond of sleep, post-coital cuddling always seemed to end in it, and Crowley could tell that Aziraphale was close to nodding off.

He pressed a kiss to the top of the angel’s head and allowed himself to drift off too.


End file.
